This is an extremely long chapter, but I haven't been the most regular up-loader of chapters so I think you deserve it! Enjoy! Reviews just make my day, as does favouriting and following. It's truly lovely knowing that so many people are interested in my over active imagination and this story.
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Slightlynerdy.
Wolves and Hounds.
Chapter 25.
The silence was deafening as she stood still a few feet away from Sandor. No one made a noise, not one guffaw of disgust or agitation echoed out across the field. Jaime Lannister had gotten to his feet, and even though there were hundreds of other souls staring at her, it was his gaze that made the blood rush to her cheeks and the embarrassment to creep into her bones. She had walked out in front of all manner of people and kissed the Hound on the cheek, given him her favour. A man who many regarded as little more than a mongrel and a beast. Sandor was still very much rooted to the spot, his eyes were crystal clear though, gazing at her intently. Then something seemed to come to the forefront of his mind, he shook his head slowly and raised his voice.
"Dogs don't need favours." Sandor balled her handkerchief up in his fist, the expression on his face pained, before throwing it towards her. It fluttered on a gust of wind before drifting down to the muddy grass. Sandor turned to walk away and that was when noise began to seep back into the tourney grounds. It started with a few disgusted comments before turning into full blown booing. It took Tarynn a little while to realise that it wasn't her that the crowd was booing and cajoling, it was Sandor.
She was knocked out of her reverie by a hand on her arm, she looked down at it before looking up and into the handsome face of Ser Jaime Lannister. He held her favour flat out in the palm of his hand, it was slightly stained by mud. "You cannot tame dogs, if you could Robert would have mastered him years ago. Allow me to guide you back to your seat , my lady."
She accepted Jaime's arm for there was nothing else she could think to do at that moment, she looked over her shoulder briefly at Sandor's retreating figure before turning back and focusing on what was in front of her. All around her there were people with sympathetic expressions on their faces. Lady Falyse even reached out and touched her gently on the arm. That was when Tarynn realised why Sandor had rejected her favour, why he had done what he did; it was to divert the humiliation onto himself. Every spectator would see herself as a kind hearted young girl wanting to give support to those less fortunate whilst Sandor managed to depict himself as the heartless monster who had rejected an innocent girl's gesture.
Jamie placed his hand on the small of her back as she climbed up the stairs again, he also pressed her dirtied handkerchief in her hand. When they reached the top, Tilly gave her forearm a reassuring squeeze, the look in her eyes silently saying 'not to worry'. Tarynn looked up, Renly was holding out his hand, a sign indicating that she should take it. But it wasn't Renly who she focused on, she looked over to the other side of the king, to her father. He gestured for her to come to him. She touched Renly's open palm gently before going around the back of king Robert's chair to hear what her father had to say.
Lord Eddard Stark gestured for his eldest daughter to sit down beside him.
"Are you alright Tarynn? It takes a great deal of bravery to walk out onto the tourney field in front of hundreds and then get rejected by a man hardly anything more than a commoner."
She had never heard her father speak so harshly of the lower castes, he had always respected them, "I'm fine father, it seems that we can't please everyone, no matter how hard we try."
Her father leaned closer and kissed her on the cheek, "I am proud of the way that you turned out Tarynn, never forget that."
When he pulled back, Tarynn noticed something in his eyes, sadness mingled with determination, now it was her turn to ask if her father was okay. "Are you alright father?"
Eddard took Tarynn's hand in his, "Of course I am my darling, now you should go back to Renly. I swear that that man's heart grows in admiration and love whenever you pull a stunt like the one you just did. Just... don't forget that I love you more then any man who could ever hope to have your heart will."
She suppressed the tears that threatened to spill when her father spoke those words, instead she stood and pressed a kiss to his cheek, "I know father, I know."
She returned back to her seat and to Renly who straightened up when she sat down and reached for her hand once again, holding it in a tight grip, his thumb tracing unseen patterns on the back of her hand. "What you did Tarynn... Was awe inspiring. You did not need to defend that dog but you did, its just a shame that he bit back. It seems that I'm marrying much much more than just a pretty face." He drew closer, capturing her lips in a passionless kiss.
Once he had finished trying to show the public that his romantic intentions weren't just towards those of the same gender. They watched and chatted as the tourney ground was cleared and set up for the second match of the morning, Tarynn, her father and Tilly were then to move closer to the joust, her father wanted the family to sit together. The second match would decide who was going to face Sandor in the finals. The tilt was between Gregor Clegane, the monstrous elder brother of Sandor, and Loras Tyrell, her partner in crime when it came to trying to destroy her engagement to Renly. Tarynn took her place on the right hand side of her father, Arya was beside her and Sansa was on his left. Ser Loras had taken to handing out roses to the prettiest members of the audience. She watched as Sansa received a red one from the knight, the young girl's face lighting up in ecstasy. Then her feverish whispering began.
"Please, the mountain is going to kill him. Don't let him kill him."
Ser Loras bowed to king Robert, the Mountain made no movement to copy the gesture. They then both mounted their steeds and rode down to the opposite ends of the grounds. She watched in interest as Gregor Clegane's horse skittered and brayed as it stood opposite to Loras' mare. She could also hear Littlefinger and Renly betting on the winner of this joust and of course Renly was adamantly defending Loras. Ned Stark lent over to say something to Tarynn.
"After this part of the semi-finals is over we will be adjourning to eat luncheon, it's outside. I expect you to be there since you have managed to excuse yourself out of a lot of feasts over the past few weeks." She ducked her head to hide the blush creeping over her cheeks. "Renly is also to make a toast for your impending marriage and it won't look good if his future bride is not with him. Make sure that you turn up... Your mother sent me a letter today." There was a hidden strain in her father's voice, as if he wasn't quite telling the truth, "Bran's condition has not changed, but she misses you, and will hopefully be able to travel down for the wedding. You have not yet written her. Why is that?"
Tarynn cleared her throat, her eyes were on Loras's retreating form as he rode down his lane of the jousting area. "I have written, twice, I watched grand maester Pycelle send the letters with my own eyes. I do not know why Winterfell has not received them."
Her father made a noise like a thoughtful hum, "The only explanation is that someone is intercepting them." Tarynn thought she saw her father's eyes flicker up to look at Littlefinger but it may have just be a trick of the light.
"Father, look they are starting." Sansa's voice was high pitched and anxious, she had looped her arm in Ned Stark's, her eyes glued to the contestants. When the tilt started everyone was on the edge of their seats. Tarynn herself spotted a fatal flaw in Gregor Clegane's charge, his horse was greatly distracted. They collided, and Loras landed a blow squarely on Gregor's breastplate. The large man and his horse fell to the ground. There was a gasp from the crowd, and Loras swung his horse round, pulled off his helmet and had a shit-eating grin on his face. Gregor recuperated and yelled at his squire. The small boy came running onto the field, in his arms a great bastard sword. Loras had moved in front of the king, displaying his victory.
Gregor pulled the sword out of the sheath and swung it at his horse, the beast's neck split open, the head sliding off of the body, gushing bright ruby red blood. There were more gasps, and Sansa had clasped her hands over her mouth. Tarynn herself stood up, she could see rage in Gregor's eyes and it was directed at Loras. She moved from her place, rushing down to the muddied field. She could hear her father, Littlefinger and Renly yelling after her. Arya had grasped her arm.
"Tarynn what, what are you going to do? The mountain, he'll kill you if you get in the way."
"I can't just sit here and watch Loras die. No one else should be killed in this tourney."
She tugged her arm away and glimpsed the awe struck expression that Arya now had on her face. She ran towards the confrontation, hitching her skirts up as she went but she was too late. Gregor rose his sword before swinging it down towards Loras, who just managed to block it. The blow however sent him to the ground as he shuffled backwards in order to avoid any more of Gregor's blows she began to sprint. She had almost reached them when she was pulled back by someone with an iron grip, she looked up to see Sandor, his grey eyes cruel and calculating as he moved in front of her and caught the cut that was meant to be for Loras on his own sword.
The brothers began to fight, parrying blows, dealing them. It was evident that Sandor was the quicker and more dexterous of the two but Gregor had reach and brute strength. She watched, mesmerised by the fluidity of Sandor's fighting.
That was when king Robert's voice bellowed out, "Stop this madness."
Sandor did, kneeling down with his hands clasped around the hilt of his sword in front of his king. Gregor on the other hand was still swinging his sword, it narrowly missed the top of Sandor's head. Tarynn almost screamed but clasped her hands over her mouth in similar fashion to the other ladies watching the tourney. Gregor Clegane looked up from where his brother knelt to his king and with a huff he threw down his bastard sword and stomped off, parting the crowds like waves.
Sandor stood, sweat dripping off his brow, he gave a long hard look at the king before glancing at Tarynn. She was still very much trying to get over the fact that he had been so very close to death, if Gregor's swing had been just a tiny bit lower, Sandor would have been buried alongside Toby, and she didn't think she could bear that. Ser Loras Tyrell, also got to his feet, albeit with a limp, and approached the Hound, grasping his arm and lifting it to the heavens.
"I grant you the winner of the jousts, I yield to you ser, for you intervened and saved my life."
Sandor grew uncomfortable he pulled his arm free of Ser Loras' hand, "I am no ser." Before walking off in the same direction as his brother had previously. Ser Loras looked at her next, approaching her, "My Lady are you alright? You look quite pale." Her eyes focused on Loras' face, brown eyes gazed down at her, concerned. "Were you hoping to get between Gregor and me, I'm afraid that tactic would not have worked the brute would have cut you clean through. Sandor Clegane saved your life too."
Yes, yes he did, he saved my life again.
"You'll have to excuse me Ser Loras, but congratulations on your victory as runner up. Excuse me."
She pushed past the knight of flowers, not looking back at her father, sisters or Renly. Her feet carried her to where she needed to go. She moved through servants, and aided a couple of washerwoman with their loads but before long she reached the tent that she had been searching for, the three dogs of Clegane floating on a flag outside the entrance. She waited until no one was around before slipping inside. Sandor was standing half naked over a free standing wash basin. Water dripped from his hair and face, his scar was an angry red.
Her voice was small, "Sandor?"
He turned towards her, reaching for a scrap of linen to dry himself off. As she watched him, her eyes were drawn to the muscles that Sandor had, the deep lines across his stomach, and the muscles in his arms. He laughed at her.
"You know my body is yours for the taking, you just have to say the word." He stepped closer, his implication clear.
She blushed, "No, not yet. I can't, I want to but I can't."
He laughed deep and raspy, "That's what the whores used to say to me." She flinched at his comment and the mention of his past experience with women but she knew that no man was a saint and that they all had urges from a very young age, except Renly whose urges were something different entirely. He moved closer, tracing a stag that was embellished on her dress and her breath hitched. "I see that they trussed you up for your Baratheon betrothed... You look beautiful." His grey eyes were piercing, his scar had stopped looking so angry. Gently she lifted her hand cupping his cheek her thumb rubbing gentle circles. He leaned into her touch.
"I came to congratulate you, on your victory, I hear that the prize is quite a hefty amount of dragons."
"Enough to afford your dowry? If my brother was dead I would use the money to repair Clegane's Keep. To marry you. I would do it wolf... I could have killed him, I should have killed him, I want to kill him." He half-growled half-moaned, his grey eyes began to cloud and his brow furrowed.
She stepped closer and threw her arms around his neck drawing him into an embrace, he picked her up gently as she pressed kisses to his lower jaw. "I know Sandor, I know." She didn't know what she was saying 'I know' for, the fact that she knew that he would not hesitate to marry her or the fact that she knew he was more than capable of slaying his brother. They had never spoken about Sandor's past, and she hadn't really divulged much about hers. But she knew that Gregor had played a big part in making Sandor's childhood unbearable.
Their embrace didn't last very long, Tarynn had to go to the feast, as did Sandor, but they couldn't walk together. They shared one last lingering kiss before Tarynn began to leave. As she was about to exit the tent Sandor's rough voice called out to her.
"It wasn't a joke, I would marry you Tarynn, you know that right?"
She turned around, one hand on the fabric of the tent flap, "And I would gladly have you as my husband, bear you little Sandors even though I'm almost completely against the idea of marrying," She smiled faintly, "But unfortunately I don't think it could ever be."
Sandor
He had an hour to himself before he decided that he must join the pretentious people who made up king Robert's, first of his name, court.
He had never intended to save the knight of flowers life, in fact if it had been anyone else instead of Gregor trying kill the little prissy runt then he would have gladly not intervened. But it had been an opportunity to cleave Gregor's grotesque head from his equally grotesque body, and one he could not pass up. He donned the nicest shirt he owned, a doublet with the three dogs of Clegane embroidered on the bottom left before sweeping back the tent flap and walking out into the fresh air.
He could hear the revelries of the common people already sat at the feast that had been coordinated for them in honour of the victor of the tourney and the Hand himself. He would have much rather sat in his tent and drunk himself into oblivion with various forms of wine, but Tarynn was going to be at the feast hosted for nobles and he was willing to occupy himself by watching her. By memorising the dimples in her cheeks, the flow of her long brown hair, the fullness of her breasts... He jolted himself back into consciousness, if he thought any more of Lady Stark he would have a serious problem which he probably wouldn't be able to hide very well.
A couple of drunk serving wenches came up on either side of him, squeezing his upper arms, complimenting him on his strength and promising him a good time later. One of them winked before scuttling off, the other asked him what he was going to do with all that gold he had won today.
I'm going to save it, and establish myself, I will offer a hefty dowry to Lord Stark if need be. Not spend it on the likes of you.
He shrugged the woman off, "Seven hells, why don't you throw yourself at the bloody king."
She shied away, her eyes clearing slightly even though she was inebriated, "You're a dog." She spat before staggering off.
I've been called worse.
Tarynn
"Lady Tarynn, you look simply sublime in that dress."
Petyr Baelish had crept up beside her, his grey-green eyes shining with mischief as he complimented Tarynn, his eyes straying to the tops of her breasts.
"You are very kind, Lord Baelish."
"Please, I insist you call me Petyr, I was close friends with your mother a long time ago. I hope Lady Catelyn is well?"
As well as any mother whose son is on the brink of death.
"Quite well thank you."
"And yourself? How are you settling in to King's Landing? It would be an honour to give you a tour of our glorious city and all of it's fine establishments." His tone was suggestive.
"The offer is very kind of you Petyr, but I have already visited the markets and..."
"But you haven't had time to visit Baelor's Sept yet."
I don't keep those Gods, my Gods lie within the godswood.
"I... No, not as of yet."
"Could I suggest maybe you should sit beside me when we dine?" He boldly put his hand on the small of her back, "We could discuss it further. It would also please me to get to know you a whole deal better." A smile stretched over his face.
"I don't know if that would be possible my Lord, my fiancé Lord Renly will no doubt want me to be sat by his side..."
"Allow me to talk to your striking fiancé, I'm sure we can reach some sort of arrangement. "He grinned, "Now if you would excuse me."
Littlefinger strode off, heading towards a gathering of important looking people on the left. A serving girl wandered past Tarynn, balancing a silver tray with full wine glasses on her hand. Tarynn took one and drank down its contents before placing the glass back, the girl looked at with an expression of astonishment before continuing on her way. She sighed before looking around at the scene laid out before her. The gardens were beautiful, rose bushes and cherry blossom trees were spread out sporadically around the grounds, the fountain which was carved into the likeness of a stag spouted water in large jets into the air. Carved into the stone basin were the Baratheon words; 'Ours is the fury.'
She moved towards it, gazing down at cool water and the coppers that had been tossed into it, the wishes of a hundred commoners, servants and nobles. She sat down on the cool marble and waited for the announcement of dinner. She spotted Renly in his wheeled chair, Loras Tyrell beside him. The man had a blackened eye and his arm was in a sling but other than that the knight of flowers had gotten off lightly in his brawl with Gregor Clegane. Her father was with the king, Sansa was standing with Joffery and Queen Cersei, Sandor was no where to be seen even though he was Joffrey's de facto bodyguard. Arya was standing alone, her eyes glued to a pair of cats who were fighting in a forgotten section of the garden.
She waited patiently, watching the lords and ladies mill around the courtyard and gardens, twiddling her thumbs so to speak when she heard a curious sound echoing to her left near the stables. She stood, glanced around to ensure that no one would miss her before moving towards the mysterious noise.
When she came across it, it was a seemingly young boy with a shock of bright red hair. His face was freckled and in his hand he held a long bow crafted out of fine wood and gilded with carvings of vines. The noise she had heard was the sound of the string snapping when the arrow was loosened and then the thump as it collided with the bullseye of the target. She cleared her throat.
"Oh excuse me my lady, I didn't see you there."
She nodded as confirmation of his apology before her gaze was drawn to the arrows sprouting out of the target, "Who might you be?"
"Names Anguy, of the Dornish Marches and champion of the archery competition of the tourney of the Hand. You're Lady Tarynn Stark aren't you? Your father offered me a posting with your personal guard but I turned it down. I'm rich now you see, I can live a life of luxury now."
Tarynn wasn't fully listening to what the skinny red haired boy was saying, she was fixated on the bow and his arrows. "Could I please try your bow and arrows?"
The boy looked hesitant but he dipped his head nonetheless, "As you wish my lady."
He handed to her his bow, and gave her an arrow. She took a few moments to recall how Robb strung his bow before notching the arrow and lifting the bow up so that the arrow was level with her chin, she drew the string back which was a bit of challenge due to all the restricting garments she was wearing and released. The arrow flew towards the target, thudding into the compact painted straw with a quiver, it landed on the edge of the bullseye.
The boy Anguy clapped and whistled and she smiled, "Thank you for lending me your bow."
"It was a pleasure my lady, you're a pretty good shot if I may be so bold... Perhaps you should start taking lessons."
"Yes, maybe I should."
It's an attractive prospect, if I knew how to use a bow I would be much better off, I would at least be able to protect myself.
"Well Anguy, it was lovely meeting you, I wish you all the best... Enjoy your good fortunes."
"And you my lady." She left the boy to his practice, the rhythmic drumming of the notching loosening of arrows a calming sound.
When she returned to the gardens, noble men were leading noble women to the feasting tables which had been set up on a sort of hill, the main table was at the top whilst the other tables were situated at the base of the hill. She was ambushed by her sisters.
"Tarynn, Tarynn, look what Joff gave me." Sansa dangled a delicate piece of ribbon in front of her, the colour of yellow gold.
"It's beautiful Sansa, would you like me to tie it around your neck?"
"Would you? It matches the colour of my dress perfectly."
Yes, we are both dressed up in the colours of our betroths houses... But shouldn't you be wearing Baratheon crimson like me instead of Lannister gold.
Arya scoffed, "I can't believed you two are both betrothed."
Tarynn looked at her sister, smiling teasingly, "Why? Do you also wish to be looking forward to your own wedding?"
"No! I never want to marry anyone, and father can't force me like he has forced you... Why do you even have to marry Renly. Joffrey is a Baratheon so Sansa will be one and the queen one day. I wish you had married Theon. I liked Theon."
Arya can't hope to understand, she's too young and Theon was just too loose with his love for women.
"And who would you have me marry then Arya? If not Renly. Theon is no longer an option anymore. We are many leagues apart."
Arya pouted, "You could go back to Winterfell, you could take me too. I hate it here. The queen's always making comments on how I look. I know I'm not as pretty as you or Sansa but..." Arya's lower lip began to quiver and Tarynn finished tying Sansa's ribbon before embracing her youngest sister.
"Oh Arya, you are beautiful and strong, very strong because you are a Stark and its in your blood. Don't listen to the queen, she doesn't know what she is talking about."
Sansa began to interrupt but Tarynn motioned for her to keep quiet, Arya sobbed in her arms, the creaking of wood became noticeably louder.
"Little Lady Arya Stark, whatever is the matter?" Renly's jovial voice ruined the tender moment that Tarynn was having with her little sister. She looked up at him, his black hair was brushed to an impeccable shine, his green eyes glinting in the sunlight. A smile stretched over his face, displaying his perfect teeth. Loras stood at his side and she could tell that Sansa was practically hyperventilating due to the fact that the knight of flowers was less than a few metres away from her.
"She's just a upset over a matter that has been resolved now." She hadn't meant to be so curt but it just sort of slipped out in that tone.
Renly nodded, ignoring the tone of her voice, "I remember when I was your age, I never got upset I just wanted to hit a lot of things."
Arya sniffled, rubbing her nose, "I want to do that as well, a lot."
Renly laughed, "Then it appears little Lady Stark we have a lot in common... Loras why don't you escort Lady Sansa and Arya to the feast. I wish to talk with my fiancée."
Sasna grasped Loras' arm with such enthusiasm that the young man looked down in alarm at the auburn haired girl, Arya followed them sullenly. Tarynn turned to face Renly.
"What is it you want to discuss?"
He gestured for her to follow him, when they were a little further down the path he wheeled his chair round to face her, he reached for her hand and she allowed him to take it.
"I want to set a date for the wedding, and I want it to be soon. I mean to leave for Storm End soon and I am hoping to take you with me as my wife."
"Why aren't you discussing this with my father? I have little say over the matter."
"Of course you have say, it's your wedding as well, you have as much say as I do, in fact more. This is no superficial day, we will be together for the rest of our lives."
Bile rose in her throat and her head began to pulse.
"I know Renly..." And this was when she really perfected the art of lying, "But I had always dreamt of an autumn wedding, the leaves will be crimson as well, the colours of Baratheon." She knelt down before him and leaned in to kiss him gently on the lips, "That is what I want."
He groaned, "As much as I want to give in to you my darling, I really want the wedding to be sooner as opposed to later."
So this is it then, all my plans are starting to crash down around me, there is no way Ser Loras and I will be able to thwart this in time.
She forced herself to smile, and Renly grinned back at her, her words got caught in her throat. She felt as if she was being smothered with no way of stopping it. "Anything for you Renly." She kissed him gingerly on the cheek, being every bit the doting fiancee.
I wonder if we are to be married, would he be able to put aside his penchant for men.
She didn't feel sick about the thought, she just felt indifferent. Renly was being a very convincing actor he took her hand and held it against his lips.
"I am a very lucky man Lady Tarynn, and I promise to be as good a husband as I can be."
The sound of someone clearing their throat disrupted their conversation. Tarynn looked up, withdrawing her hand only to be faced with Sandor. She didn't want him to see her like this with Renly, she glanced away but she had looked at him long enough to take in the fact that he was silently fuming. His voice was rough, rougher than usual, it grated on her heart.
"The feast has started my Lord, my Lady... The king has requested your presence."
"Why did my brother send his dog to call for us?"
Tarynn whispered quietly, "Renly..."
"No, this man has put me in this chair, and he shows no remorse for his actions. My brother's choice of a messenger was underhanded and..."
Tarynn knelt beside Renly, "Renly my sweetling, this man does nothing but what his king asks him to do, and he won the tourney fair and square. Don't forget you jousted admirably, it was not your fault... There must have been something wrong with your steed." She brushed back some of Renly's hair and kissed him on the cheek. "Now go, they will be missing you."
"Are you not coming?" He tore his steely gaze away from Sandor and turned to look at her more softly.
"I will be with you shortly, I must make my prayers to the Gods."
The Hound stayed where he was, his arms still crossed, waiting until Renly had rolled out of earshot.
"That shit is not worthy of your kisses..."
"Please Sandor not now."
"But why must you put on such an act if you're not going to marry him?"
Tarynn looked away from him, her eyes beginning to brim with tears, she sucked in a breath and looked down sullenly at the ground. "I am going to have to marry him, he is pushing the wedding forward, and he won't take anything I say into consideration. He is adamant... And usually I can persuade Renly very easily. I'm stuck Sandor, unless I decide to denounce my titles and my family I have to marry him."
"They why don't you?"
She snapped her head up, "What?"
"Elope with me," He reached for her hands but she drew them away, "We can make a new life in the Free Cities."
"You expect me to just abandon my family? My sisters? They need me, they won't last ten seconds in this corrupt city, my father will be heartbroken. I can't just up and leave."
"But I know you wish to travel, what's change?"
She bit her lip and held a hand against her forehead, her voice small, "Everything, everything's changed. We killed Toby... I killed Toby. Because I didn't do my duty and got involved with you."
"What are you saying Tarynn?" Genuine hurt crossed Sandor's face before it slowly began to melt into anger, "You're going to give up and give in, is that it? I'm not good enough for you I know but I'm trying. You changed me..."
She held up a hand, "Please... I need time to myself. I need to speak with Loras." She sighed, and Sandor turned away, his hands clenched. She closed the gap between them, placing a hand on his cheek, "I love you, truly I do, but I'm in a bad position Sandor, with people on either side of me closing in. I can't disgrace my family, I won't."
He turned back towards her, his eyes burning like a tortured man, "So what? I'll be your bit on the side. When Renly takes your maidenhead you'll come to me afterwards?" She glanced down, refusing to meet his gaze. "Seven hells. And if you fall pregnant with my child not Renly's then what."
"Don't say that. I won't fall pregnant with your child. I know ways of preventing it."
"Then why wait, if I can't have you forever then give me something to remember you by. Allow me to be your first."
"You speak boldly..."
He took her into his arms, mumbling into her soft brown hair, "I speak boldly because I love you, and I don't want you to be any other man's. I want you."
She kissed his collarbone, moving up to his mouth, peppering his skin with small kisses. He captured her lips in a passionate kiss, his fingers curling into her hair. She steadied herself, putting her arms around his neck. He pushed against her and she could feel through the fabric of her dress and his finest trousers his arousal. And that almost made her wanton.
She drew away, gasping for breath. He gently stroked her cheek, brushing away the traces of tears that had fallen from her eyes. "We can't run away together, we can't... I can't. But maybe... Maybe."
"Whatever you decide, I'll wait for you, forever if need be. Even when you're old and grey. I'll wait for you."